


Penance

by serenitymeimei



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M, Season 3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitymeimei/pseuds/serenitymeimei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olivia Dunham, despite what her official report stated, still wasn't quite sure what to make of the Alternate Charlie Francis. Set during the beginning of S3, up to 3x09.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> I can't quite remember where I found the prompt for this fic, but it was, "Fringe- Olivia/Alt!Livia/Alt!Charlie- I love you, I hate you," and it kinda took a little detour around including Alt!Liv... sort of.

Olivia Dunham, despite what her official report stated, still wasn't quite sure what to make of the Alternate Charlie Francis. 

He was exactly as she remembered him, yet nothing alike at the same time. The Charlie on _her side_ was sweet and caring and loved his wife with such ferocity that he had finally managed to convince Olivia that maybe that kind of love wasn't just for fairy tales. They were best friends, partners and confidants. He took care of her and reassured her when she got in over her head, and in return she always had his back, no matter what. Things were simple between them. _Over there_ , though? He was harder around the edges, quicker to snap at people when they joked with him and always seemed a little uncomfortable in his own skin, itching at the arachnids lurking dormant inside of him whenever he thought nobody was looking. But, when they were alone or with Lincoln he relaxed and dropped the carefully crafted government agent facade. He liked to live life to the fullest, as much as he could in a world falling apart at its seams, and took great pride in boasting about his weekend conquests and adventures. 

The only thing that hadn't changed, with one hundred percent certainty on _both sides_ , was the unspoken bond between them. They were family.

* * *

It was only when she first began seeing Peter, trapped on the other side, that her memories started to blur. She wasn't aware that it was happening, had no idea why she was seeing little flashes of another life that she couldn't remember living and it was slowly driving her mad. 

After only a few days of it she found herself accidentally asking Charlie how Sonia was, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and she hadn't realized her mistake until he looked at her with the oddest expression on his face. A bottle of beer sat frozen halfway between the bar and his mouth, a laugh escaping him as he asked her who Sonia was. That was the first time that she realized something was wrong. She had to keep convincing herself that she was Olivia Dunham, the Olympic medalist and the girlfriend of a sexy doctor named Frank, and absolutely was _not_ a lonely woman who's work came first and always walked through life constantly looking over her shoulder.

“You okay, Liv?”

She smiled nervously, letting the hue of Charlie's worried eyes soothe her, “I wish I was.”

His brow furrowed, like he was studying her with more intensity, checking for injuries or anything else that could possibly harm her. The sick feeling in her stomach, the one that had been there since her return to work finally started to abate, waves of nausea slowly disappearing as his warm hand encompassed hers.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Sighing, she looked down, watching as his thumb rubbed comfortingly back and forth over her wrist, “No.”

If there was one thing that she absolutely did not want to do right now, talking about it was certainly it. No amount of words could make her seem sane, no argument or logic. She was hallucinating, plain and simple and mental health was closely monitored in the Fringe Division. He would be obligated to report her, and not even Charlie would be able to keep it a secret. She didn't want to put him in that position.

Instead, she looked up at him, peering around a curtain of red hair until their gazes locked once again, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Why Olivia Dunham,” he smirked, waggling his eyebrows at her, “are you trying to seduce me?”

She snorted, her cheeks flushing at the thought. Was she? She'd never thought of him that way before, never really had the need to. It would certainly be a much needed distraction, tempting as the idea might be, but she wasn't a cheater. Frank didn't deserve that.

“Maybe, I just need to borrow the muscle,” she teased, “My new couch isn't going to move itself, you know.”

Chuckling, he downed the rest of his beer and slapped a twenty on the damp surface beside the empty bottle. There was no new couch, just a lonely apartment and too much time on her hands, and if he knew of her deception she was glad that he didn't acknowledge it.

Charlie gave her fingers a quick squeeze before gesturing toward the entrance, “You gonna spring for the pizza?”

Relieved, she chuckled and took a deep breath, hoping that the company would keep Peter at bay.

* * *

“You know, this will be the third night in a row that we've hung out,” Charlie tried saying nonchalantly as they watched an old movie on TV a few days later, failing miserably, “Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?”

For a moment, only a fraction of a second, she almost gave in. She was sorely tempted to let her guard down, to let him comfort her. Having him around the apartment lately seemed to calm her mind, finally had her feeling like herself, but the second he left she was right back where she started- with Peter telling her things that she didn't care to hear, things that made her want to weep with frustration and anger, things that made her wish Frank wasn't in Texas trying to save everyone but her. With each passing day she could feel herself slipping further away and she hated it.

She hesitated, “I- no. I'm okay.”

He frowned, but didn't bring it up again.

* * *

They were in the middle of a case, one twin cutting the other out of an ambered subway station over a bank, when she realized that the anti-psychotic meds the DOD psychiatrist prescribed her had stopped working. The Secretary had just asked her to submit herself to some tests- tests that started out sounding like a good idea, sold to her by a sense of duty to protect her world, but ended with her in a deprivation tank crossing over to another universe- and during that time the man/Peter Bishop/whatever he was had started appearing with much more frequency and his constant presence was grating on her last nerve. 

One night, in a fit of rage, she threw the bottle of pills that she'd stolen from the ER only days before against her bathroom wall, shaking as she leaned against the sink as she tried to ignore Peter babbling on behind her. 

“You can't keep doing this, Olivia.”

“Doing what?” she ground out between clenched teeth.

“Hiding. The longer you keep denying that you don't belong here, the longer it will take for you to get home.”

Meeting his gaze in the mirror with a determined flash in her eyes she said, “I _am_ home.”

Peter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, flickering for a moment before disappearing like a wisp of smoke. 

Olivia hated to admit it, but there was a small part of her that wished he was right.

* * *

Two days later, after she'd traveled _over there_ (home she supposed) again and spoken to her niece on the telephone, she finally had the proof that she needed. Proof that meant she wasn't insane and that Secretary Bishop had a much more sinister plan than he was letting on. He was using her, for his own nefarious purposes under the guise of protecting their universe. Peter _had_ been right. 

Her jaw clenched and tears began welling in her eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. She hated that she wasn't who she thought she was. She was the Olivia Dunham from the other side, there was no denying it anymore, and after admitting it to herself the memories of _here_ and _there_ began blurring together at a much faster rate. It made her head hurt and her heart ache trying to keep everything straight.

“Hey, Liv. You wanna check out that new holo-club downtown tonight?”

She'd been busy trying to remember her login password to the system mainframe when Charlie snuck up behind her and leaned against the edge of her desk in the bullpen. He was freshly showered and way too cheerful for eight o'clock in the morning.

Subtly wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she took a deep breath and smiled up at him, “Really? You want to go out dancing?”

His eyes sparkled playfully, “Yeah, why not?”

She hesitated, torn between spending time with him now that she remembered the _other_ Charlie dying over a year ago and figuring out a way to get herself home. The situation was dire, she knew that her time was running out here, but the opportunity was far too tempting to pass up.

“Alright, what time?”

Grinning triumphantly, he clapped her on the shoulder and started making his way toward his own desk, “I'll pick you up at nine.”

 

By ten o'clock that night her body was vibrating to the beat of an unfamiliar techno song and Charlie was two drinks down, shaking his ass toward her jokingly as they danced. She laughed loudly enough to be heard over the music and slapped him on one cheek before she could stop herself. It was something that the _other_ Olivia would do, playful and carefree, much more tactile with her friends and family than she'd ever dared to be growing up and Olivia was surprised to find that she kind of liked it.

Charlie turned to her with a raised brow and a smirk on his face, shuffling close enough to wrap an arm around her waist and tug her toward him. She shivered as their bodies brushed together and pushed down the niggling feeling that this was wrong, that Charlie was nothing but married partner, an older brother that died looking out for her. No, instead she focused on how the Olivia on _this side_ saw him- as a hero, a ladies man, and one of the few people that she trusted her life with. She willed herself to forget about Frank and Peter and every fucked up thing going on in her life for just one night, choosing instead to wrap her arms around Charlie's neck and lose herself in the music.

It wasn't long before she felt the brush of his lips against her shoulder. The contact, however slight it might have been, warmed the tiny sliver of skin between the collar of her wide necked cotton shirt and the tank top that she wore underneath and she released an inaudible sigh. Without thinking, her fingers tunneled through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck and held him in place, greedily soaking up anything that he had to offer.

Charlie tensed, his fingertips digging into the flare of her waist. A few seconds of uncertainty ticked by and for a moment she was tempted to run, to apologize and flee back to the safety of her alternate's apartment, but almost before she had a chance to do anything she felt the tender scrape of his stubble dragging across the slope of her neck and her mind went pleasantly blank.

Olivia swayed into him, her body trembling lightly as he nuzzled the spot where her neck and jaw met. It was dizzying and slightly terrifying, but nothing had felt more right since her supposed 'psychotic break' weeks ago and she wasn't about to give it up without a fight. Her hips ground against him like they had a mind of their own, two sets of reactions flooding through her- one slightly mortified at what she was doing and how strongly her body was reacting, the other intrigued enough to ignore the overwhelming sense of guilt that she felt for acting like this with another man. In the end, she dismissed both of them, going for broke as she nudged at his cheek and caught the corner of his mouth with her lips.

Charlie gasped against her, his belt buckle digging into her hip as he tilted his head and kissed her properly. Olivia couldn't help but moan as his tongue fluttered across her bottom lip, slipping inside, testing the waters. She could taste the liquor that he'd been drinking, it was smoky and heady, making her hum in appreciation even as her stomach rolled. How the other Olivia could hate alcohol so much she'd never understand, because if at all possible, it tasted even better on his lips.

He broke their kiss, breathing heavily against her ear as he tugged the lobe between his teeth, “We're playing with fire here, Liv.”

She smirked, her eyes hooded as she took in the club around them, the newest hologram tech floating lazily around the ceiling and walls like a light show at a concert. It was breathtaking, but nothing compared to the thrill that ran through her as his calloused thumbs slipped under the hem of her shirt and rubbed teasing circles just below her belly button. 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

A chuckle reverberated through his chest and one hand slid up into her hair, tugging their mouths back together.

 

Not that it surprised her, but it didn't take long for their make out session on the dance floor to turn into a tangle of groping limbs tumbling into the back of a cab, heading back to his loft. The second that they paid the driver and stumbled inside, keys falling to the floor just inside of his entryway as he kicked the door shut, he wasted no time in pinning her against the hard surface. Olivia gasped, arching her back, biting her lower lip as his hands burned trails of fire under her shirt. His lips were drawing maddening trails across her chest, nudging at the loose material of her shirt and the cup of her bra with his chin until one breast was exposed and her fingernails dug into his scalp, her knees rapidly weakening the longer he explored.

From there, their clothes quickly started coming off, leaving a trail from her spot pressed against the front door all the way to the bedroom. He chuckled against her neck as they fell onto the bed, gloriously naked, and for a moment she wished that the hair haloed around her on the pillow beneath her head had been blonde. It was shallow and petty, but she didn't care, the longing was still there. The fact that her hair was red though, gave her an excuse. She could tell herself that it was the _other_ Olivia wrapping her legs around Charlie's waist. It was the _other_ Olivia who reached up and cupped his face as he slid inside of her for the first time, her thumb caressing the long scar on his face with a hint of sorrow as she remembered how scared she'd been the day that he got it. And ultimately, it was the _other_ Olivia that Charlie saw when he gazed down at her as their pleasure spiked and they rode out the aftershocks together.

 

It wasn't as awkward as Olivia thought it would be, the first time that she and Charlie ran into each other at work after she'd slipped silently out of bed the next morning and kissed him goodbye with a shy smile. He didn't mention it or give Lincoln any ideas about what might have happened between them the night before, despite his relentless inquiries as to who Charlie's mysterious date to the holo-club had been. He did, however, let his gaze roam down her body a few seconds longer than he should have, flashing her a playful waggle of his brow that had her cheeks flushing a light pink for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Two days later, with her friend Henry's help and some death defying stunts, she finally returned to the other side- her side. Her joy, however, had been short lived. Just barely recovering from her re-entry and returning to work, Peter confessed to her his betrayal with the _other_ Olivia. It had left her devastated- devastated because she knew that he hadn't been the only one to stray.

Olivia wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, still collapsed in front of her washing machine in a broken mess of tears, utterly exhausted. From her spot on the floor she could just barely see a picture of herself and Charlie on a shelf in the kitchen, the two of them grinning brightly at the camera only a few months after they'd been partnered together. Previously, the photograph had only provoked an all consuming feeling of loss and grief, but looking at it now a sad smile just barely flicker at the edges of her lips unable to stop her guilt from enveloping her.

On one hand, Charlie Francis had been her salvation. During her time _over there_ , thinking she was somebody else, he'd been the only bright spot in a crazy world where nothing made sense and every truth that she thought she'd known crumbled before her eyes. But on the other hand, the need to cling to something familiar had been selfish of her. She shouldn't have given into the impulsive urge to hold onto him, to have just one night to remember him by, and now both of them were going to bear consequences of her greed. It made her wish that this universe, _her_ universe, her home, her friends, didn't feel quite so foreign to her now that she was back. She ached for the day that they no longer tiptoed around her and she didn't cringe at the sight of them shying away from her, not sure what to say. They were afraid of her, weary, and she couldn't blame them. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, one last tear sliding down her flushed cheeks, before looking back up at the photo. Knowing the truth, knowing who she was with absolute certainty, had cost her a heavy price. She'd keep the secret of her tryst with Charlie locked away deep inside of her, never to see the light of day again. It would be a memory both cherished and wrapped in shame, because they were still family through thick and thin, no matter what universe she was in, and as much as she didn't want to leave him- them, both of the Charlies- behind she had to move on. 

Sighing heavily, Olivia pulled herself up and grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from the shelf above her dryer, slowly making her way toward the couch.

This would be her penance.

**End.**


End file.
